The Letter of a Survivor
by xCholericX
Summary: An extra chapter in Lord of the Flies. within the last five pages, when Ralph is hiding in the ferns, waiting to be hunted, he writes his thoughts and expeiriences down.


A Letter of Survival

Ralph sat in the underbrush of the ferns, trying to be as silent as possible while his breath came in ragged gasps. Fear and heat caused tendrils of sweat to roll down his face and back. He was safe for the moment, as the last light of day inched out of his grasp and he realized he was alone. Piggy was gone, as was Simon; and the only allies he'd had, were feasting with the boy who wished to kill him. The night didn't cool, and the heat from the fire nearby added to the uncomfortable position he was in. Sitting in the dirt, head bowed to accommodate the height of the thicket; Ralph sighed and thought of his next plan of action.

He would sleep here, and wake at first light to hide in the crawlers behind him. The tribe would never find him if he was well hidden. But what if they did find him? Ralph shuddered at the thought. _A stick sharpened at both ends. _Horrible images of the sow's head on the spear flashed before his eyes. They had made a point on each end of the stick in order to put one end in the ground, and the other shoved into the neck of the pig. Was that what was to become of him? An offering to a mythical beast?

"No." Ralph thought to himself, the beast wasn't simply a fable. It was real and it was going to hunt him the following daybreak. A monster did exist on this island, and it was dancing and eating around a fire nearby.

"I'm going to die." The fair-haired boy whispered, tears coming to his eyes. Few slipped out beneath his lids, and leaked down his face, washing away the dirt and grime. They continued to fall as he thought about how his plan of rescue had been abandoned, and how he really _would_ be left to rot here. His corpse would be found, perhaps, when the other boys were saved, for they would eventually be salvaged. After all, there were no uncharted islands left, and a ship was bound to pass by sooner or later. Ralph fingered a charcoaled vine next to his leg, not caring how the black soot left marks upon his fingers and tattered clothing. He leaned against the crawlers behind him, relishing in the cool feeling of shadows on his sun-burnt skin.

Sleep threatened to overtake him, but he would not let himself become unguarded. Ralph would wait until the other boys turned to sleep, so there was no chance of discovery. Upon Castle Rock, the fire was still going strong, and he knew that the tribe would be active for at least another hour or two. Ralph craned his neck to try to see Samneric's shadows, and something brushed against his ear. With his fastest reflexes he grabbed the object behind him and pulled it down. The banana-leaf that was in his hands was slightly dried out, as if it had fallen down days ago. The mix of green and brown were turned an eerie shade when the light of the fire passed through the ferns. Ralph fingered the burnt vine again, and drew on the leaf. A thick, black line stayed firmly on the leaf, and did not move when he blew on it.

Then an idea came to him, he would write his thoughts, a letter to the rescuers, an accusation, anything that would keep him busy and his mind off the things he'd gone through. Lifting the leaf so that it was laying on his thigh, Ralph pressed the vine charcoal into the green and therefore started his piece of literature.

_Ralph Gelding, Liverpool England._

_The island at first was wizard; it had pretty much everything I could hope for. Not that I'd ever wanna be stranded on an island… but if I could pick a place, this would be it. There's fresh water, fruit, sun, a beach and no predators. Well, there didn't used to be predators. When Piggy found the conch, we called a meeting, with the other boys I mean. There were big'uns and lil'uns and when they elected me as chief I thought that we could make this work, 'till we got rescued of course. We'd have a government, a good, well run society. We'd keep a fire all the time, so that a ship would see the smoke, we'd be rescued and taken back home. Surviving and getting rescued were my number one objectives. Apparently not everyone agreed. Jack and his gang thought that meat was important. They didn't realize that if we were rescued we could go _home_ and eat meat. We were getting along at the time though, and I s'pose that's what was most important. There was a falling out a short time after, but we patched things up; what a shoddy fix. That night we had a feast around a fire on the beach and we killed a boy. We all murdered him. It was exhilarating at first, giving in to the thrill of it. But once he went limp, I realized what we had done. We had prevented an innocent boy, a friend, from going home at the end of all this. We had killed Simon; I had killed Simon. _

_It was then that I realized that all of us were the beast; all of us were evil on the inside. The want to do pernicious things was like a disease eating us from the inside out. Everyone in Jacks group gave into that sickness, and turned into savages. They wore painted faces, perhaps to symbolize that they had abdicated society. My group, Samneric, Piggy and I, kept our faces clean. We would not abandon society, because we were English, right proper Englishmen. Not savages. We split, Jack and his group, me and mine. That night they ambushed us, beat us up, and stole Piggy's specs. We needed his glasses to make fire, and Piggy was practically blind without them. But when we went to go get 'em back, we were treated like criminals. Jack's gang were the ones that were the dirty thieves. _

_Jack challenged me, and we fought a fair fight. Piggy however, was like a sow against the hunters. He had no chance, especially without sight, and his ass-mar. Roger pushed a boulder off the cliff, which hit Piggy and made him fall. His head exploded on the rocks in the sea below, its innards getting washed away. He was the only one with a half a brain, on this island. I guess it was an ironic way to die. As I sit here in the dark waiting to be hunted, I imagine Piggy sitting with me. His water-logged body and empty head reminding me that I need to survive, to win this war. _

_I'm scared now, and very alone. I hope that someone will come to my rescue, but for now I'm on my own. I'll face the boys when dawn breaks, and hopefully I'll survive. _

_Sincerely, Ralph._

Ralph stayed silent after he had signed his name, tears forming again in his eyes. The memories of Simon and Piggy coming back to him, as well as the realization that he was completely by himself. The fire nearby was now reduced to embers and the light was almost non-existent. He placed the leaf beside him on the ground, and leaned back into the creepers. Letting sleep overtake him, Ralph rested dreamlessly until the morning.

4


End file.
